Nocturnal Emissions?
No, no, my boys aren't that old, yet.
Today we have a story that is rooted in genetics. In nature vs nurture. In the very make-up of my boy, the Moth.
You see, Mothman is quite an interesting mix of John and me. He's a pistol, for sure. But this is nothing to do with his personality.
Tim can sleep through anything, including walking and talking. He also has a tiny bladder which leads to many journeys in the midnight hours.
The two traits do not mix well.
One time I was woken by John screaming, "Timmy! What are you doing? Why are you peeing on the steps??!?"
I, of course, "slept" through the whole thing, including the cleanup. Being a heavy sleeper is a good alibi, sometimes. But sometimes, it comes back to bite me in the butt.
Today, I was cleaning up and straightening up Grandma Harvey's room. This is a room used when my mom stays with us, and we let the kids watch movies in there when she's not with us. Well, I was straightening up when I smelled something... no it can't be...
Under the table is a set of laundry baskets. In the top basket is a cold yellow puddle.
Got to give the sleepermoth credit: every drop, that I can tell, made it into the basket. The rug does not smell.
But man, the cleanup was gross.
Stinky, of course, laughed at me the whole time. Creep.
Motherhood brings such joys, no?
(*)>
Today we have a story that is rooted in genetics. In nature vs nurture. In the very make-up of my boy, the Moth.
You see, Mothman is quite an interesting mix of John and me. He's a pistol, for sure. But this is nothing to do with his personality.
Tim can sleep through anything, including walking and talking. He also has a tiny bladder which leads to many journeys in the midnight hours.
The two traits do not mix well.
One time I was woken by John screaming, "Timmy! What are you doing? Why are you peeing on the steps??!?"
I, of course, "slept" through the whole thing, including the cleanup. Being a heavy sleeper is a good alibi, sometimes. But sometimes, it comes back to bite me in the butt.
Today, I was cleaning up and straightening up Grandma Harvey's room. This is a room used when my mom stays with us, and we let the kids watch movies in there when she's not with us. Well, I was straightening up when I smelled something... no it can't be...
Under the table is a set of laundry baskets. In the top basket is a cold yellow puddle.
Got to give the sleepermoth credit: every drop, that I can tell, made it into the basket. The rug does not smell.
But man, the cleanup was gross.
Stinky, of course, laughed at me the whole time. Creep.
Motherhood brings such joys, no?
(*)>
posted by birdwoman | 2:49 PM
2 Comments:
At least the Moth is not a cat. There's nothing smellier than cat piss.
Arrrgh, my comment here got deleted too! I am familiar with the smell of cat urine, not through the cats, but through the PhD student down the hall who decided to try to make meth on the university's dime.
I do wonder what happened to that guy...
(*)>
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